


When Being A History Buff Goes Wrong

by StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese



Series: MISSING: Tales From the Life of a Private Investigator [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: (that was a joke please don't get mad at me), Culture Shock, McDonald's, POV Outsider, TW: McDonald's Food, anyway i love hazel, lmao i didn't know mcdonalds was a tag, technology has come a long way since the forties y'all, that's probably enough tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese/pseuds/StopIWantToTalkAboutCheese
Summary: A mortal New Yorker who happens to be passionate about history.One of Alaska's oldest missing-persons cases.Two weird kids in the McDonalds.Luka just wanted a goddamn burger, and instead he's seeing dead people. Perfect.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Hazel Levesque
Series: MISSING: Tales From the Life of a Private Investigator [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911502
Comments: 10
Kudos: 134





	When Being A History Buff Goes Wrong

One of the best parts about being a detective, in Luka’s opinion, was going through all of the cold cases, the ones that had been lying unsolved for years and years. The oldest one, and the one sitting on his desk right now, was the case of Hazel and Marie Levesque, a mother and daughter pair who had gone missing in Alaska in 1942, and were never found. The common theory was that they died in the massive earthquake that had nearly swallowed their town on the day of their disappearance, but no bodies were ever found. Of course, Marie Levesque was known to be… well, a little kooky. And little Hazel had only been– what– thirteen? Luka would not be surprised if they had simply crossed the Canadian border illegally, and vanished in the way that you could do before digital records were a thing.

Letting out a huge sigh, Luka leaned back in his chair and blinked up at the ceiling.

It was mid-afternoon on a gorgeous spring day in good old New York City, and Luka had no cases to review, no people to interview, and nothing that urgently needed his attention.

It was a good feeling.

Casting one last look at the file of Marie and Hazel Levesque, taking in the girl’s solemn eyes and her mother’s sunken face, he decided to head out for something to eat. There was a McDonalds just down the block, and Luka had a craving for a cheap burger and burned coffee.

So he got up, stretched, grabbed his coat, and hurried out the door.

* * *

There was a line. Of course there was. It was the middle of the afternoon on Wednesday.

Oh, well. Luka didn’t have anything else to do.

He got in line behind a couple of kids, who must be playing hooky, to be at McDonalds at two in the afternoon on Wednesday. Part of him wanted to say something, but what was he going to do? Escort them back to school? Yeah, right.

So Luka stood behind the pair politely, fiddling a bit with his wedding ring. Maybe he could lock up early today, buy some flowers at the bodega on the corner, surprise Anthony at home.

The line shuffled forwards.

Luka eyed the kids in front of him and wondered privately to himself if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. They seemed as different as they could be– the boy was pale as death, with dark circles beneath his eyes, wearing jet-black clothing and boots, with what seemed to be a permanent scowl etched on his face. The girl was wearing an old-timey dress and Mary-Janes, and had wide eyes and dark skin only a shade lighter than Luka’s own. She was looking around like she’d never seen a McDonalds before, and was eyeing every white person in the vicinity with a critical eye.

Well, you know what they say. Opposites attract, and all that.

“Nico,” the girl whispered, “what’s that?”

She pointed at the self-serving drink machine in the corner, and the boy– Nico– frowned over at it.

“It’s where you order your drinks,” he said carelessly. “I’ll show you later, if you want.”

The girl’s eyes did not leave the machine, and she flinched backwards as a woman wandered over to it and started punching in her order. Her jaw fell open upon seeing the touchscreen light up.

“Nico,” she said, “did the glass just–?”

“Yup,” he said, and glanced back at Luka. His face went from mildly indulgent to closed off immediately.

Luka was certain his expression was one to behold. What modern-day kid didn’t know what a touchscreen was? For that matter, what modern-day kid– especially one who was apparently playing hooky– _willingly_ wore Mary-Janes? Who _was_ this girl?

The girl was now looking up at the menu, and her eyes were practically bugging. “Hey, Nico–”

“We can talk about this later–”

“But they’re asking for almost _three dollars_ for a cheeseburger!” the girl said, her voice rising. “What kind of–”

“It’s just inflation,” Nico hissed. “Trust me, Bianca and I were surprised, too. This is cheap. I need to replenish. And then we can get to Camp Jupiter.”

“Why did we come out in New York, anyway?” the girl asked. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to go to California straight away?”

Nico fidgeted. “Uh– New York is kind of a home base for me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to come out in the middle of Times Square. Sorry about that, by the way.”

She shrugged. “You already apologized.”

“Yeah, but still. Probably kind of jarring for you.”

“...Yeah, it was.”

The line inched forwards again, and the kids stepped up to order.

Luka stood at the front of the line, trying to recover from that bizarre conversation. What kid had established opinions on the pricing of cheeseburgers? What did the boy mean, “come out in the middle of Times Square”? Were they going to California? Should he try to talk to them, make sure they were both okay? For that matter, did either of them have an adult with them? From their conversation, Luka didn’t think so. Should he call CPS? The police? What should he do?

He ordered in a daze, and trudged to a table to eat, when he realized the kids were sitting in the booth nearby.

The girl’s face was angled towards him now, and he could make out big golden eyes… dark curly hair… a shy smile… 

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

There was no way.

Luka’s eyes were playing tricks on him.

This kid– this random girl at McDonalds on a Wednesday afternoon– looked, no joke, _exactly_ like Hazel Levesque. 

What were the odds?

 _What_ were the odds?

This was insanity. There was no way. This kid was just messing with his head. The shoes and the dress and the surprise at everyday conveniences had thrown him off. He had spent too long staring at pictures again.

There was just no way.

Still, Luka found himself half-standing, trying to get a closer look.

The girl met his eyes. Her body went stiff.

The boy turned around and saw Luka. His irises, Luka noted dimly, were nearly black. His face looked to be carved from stone. He shoved the last bite of his burger into his mouth, grabbed the girl’s wrist, and–

Luka must have blinked. He had to have blinked.

What else could explain the sudden disappearance of both kids? And the shadows at their table looking just a _tad_ darker than they had been ten seconds ago?

Still, the kids were gone, vanished without a trace.

Sighing, Luka slumped back into his seat.

He didn’t feel too hungry anymore.

When he got back to his office, Luka slipped the Levesque file back into its folder and tossed it.

He didn’t know what he’d seen– a lookalike? a ghost?– but he did know that there was no way he was messing with it.

Hazel Levesque was missing, and Luka was going to make sure she stayed that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I reused the same OC from part one. What can I say? I like him.
> 
> Tell me what you think :)


End file.
